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The detecting kit was actually pretty cool, even though it was meant for little kids. It had a tape recorder that really worked, a flashlight and a camera small enough to fit in her palm. She checked all the batteries to make sure they hadn’t gone dead, then returned them to her pack.
She tossed the magnifying glass—it had nothing on a decent microscope—and opened the spiral-bound notebook to the first page. To begin, she jotted down the date—she’d seen her aunt Kelly do the same in the book she kept on her job. Then she started listing all the facts she knew about the night Jilly had been murdered.
Soon she had pages of information. When her mind was finally as empty as the drawers in the bureau where she’d been asked to unpack her clothes, she gave up.
“We have a lot of research to do, Stanley.”
She tucked the bear under her chin and rolled over onto her back. The ceiling was white. Just like at home. If she tried real hard, she could almost pretend…
No. The ceiling was the same, but the smells here were different. For starters, no one ever baked at her house. And the sounds—rather, the lack of them—were strange, too. No cars, or sirens, or rumbling old buses.
Close your eyes and pretend.
It was her favorite game. Pretend Daddy was still alive. That he’d been away on a long vacation and now he was back. He’d pull open her bedroom door and say, “How’s my little angel?” He always called her that, as if she was something wonderful, almost magical….
How’s my little angel? Kind of babyish for a twelve-year-old, maybe. But she hadn’t minded. Now no one would ever say those words to her again.
Holly could feel the sadness flowing. It always started this way. The aching would pour into all the empty spaces in her like water, until she was certain she would drown.
But she never did. All she did was cry. Sob and sob, until her head ached and she was tired enough to sleep.
She held up her bear so she could see his eyes. “Maybe you can cry with me sometimes, Stanley. You have a cute little face, but it’s sad, too.” She hugged him to her.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Come back, Daddy.
MONDAY MORNING, AFTER Maureen had dropped Holly off at her new school, she went with Cathleen to see the town house for sale. The complex was in a cul de sac, backing onto Policeman’s Creek, a small branch of the Bow River.
“It’s nice here,” Maureen commented, turning in a full circle. Tall pines screened the development from the rest of town, and the sound of rushing water was audible from the street. The morning was sunny, and while the air was still cool, the day held the promise of the summer to come. The town homes were stained cedar, with generous windows, and each had its own driveway and attached garage, a welcome luxury in the long, cold winters.
Cathleen stood in front of the unit with the For Sale sign pounded into the small, square lawn. “Beth Gibson said she could get us inside later this afternoon. I suggested just after three-thirty so that Holly could come, too.”
“Perfect.” Maureen shoved her hands into the pockets of her fleece jacket. She’d slept better than she had in months in the down-duvet-covered bed at the B and B, and her sister and Dylan had done nothing but make her feel welcome. Still, she was used to her independence and longed to get set up in her own home as soon as possible. Plus, she wanted to free up the bedrooms of the B and B for the hordes of summer guests who would soon flock to the mountain town.
Three doors down, someone came out the front door. Maureen and Cathleen turned together, in time to catch Jake Hartman’s startled expression.
“Well, hello. Did you come to see me? If so, you went to the wrong number.” He had on a thick wool sweater and carried a leather portfolio in one hand. After locking his door, he strolled toward them.
“We were checking out this place that’s for sale,” Cathleen said. She flashed innocent round eyes to her sister. “Didn’t I mention that Jake lives in this complex, too?”
“What a coincidence. No, I don’t believe you did.” Maureen placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder and dug her nails in, even as she smiled at her new business partner. “I would’ve pictured you in an isolated rustic cabin up in the mountains.”
“You’ve just given a perfect description of the lodge at Grizzly Peaks. Because I sometimes spend weeks away from home, I need a place that doesn’t require much in the way of upkeep.”
Of course. She’d forgotten she was dealing with someone who played for a living. At least he deserved credit for recognizing his limitations. When she’d become pregnant, Rod had been eager for them to buy a house. But when it came time to mow the lawn or paint the fence, he’d never been around.
“I was just on my way to get new brochures printed,” Jake explained. “But if you’d like a quick tour of my place, I believe its floor plan mirrors the town house you’re interested in.”
“How nice of you to offer.” Cathleen sidestepped away from Maureen’s grip.
“Brochures?” Maureen asked. “Could I look them over?”
Jake’s pleasant expression stiffened slightly. “Sure. If you’d like.”
“Definitely. I have a good eye for graphics. I helped Cathleen with the promotional materials for her B and B. Didn’t I, sis?”
“I’ll show you the brochures after we go through the house,” Jake said. He led the two women up the walk and unlocked the front door.
Maureen wasn’t so sure she was still interested in the property for sale, now that she knew Jake would be her neighbor. Sneaky Cathleen, not mentioning a word… But there was no way to turn down his offer without sounding churlish.
All three of them removed their shoes in the foyer. Maureen noted the generous front closet, then followed Jake to the main sitting area. Of course there would have to be a gorgeous slate fireplace.
“Is this an upgrade?” she asked, running a hand down the rough, gray-speckled stones.
“No. All the units have them.”
Damn.
“Come see the kitchen.”
The cabinets were light maple, the countertops large blue tiles. Maureen traced the white grout with her index finger. “I guess this must be hard to keep clean.”
“Not really.” Jake smiled. “A little soapy water and a dishcloth do the trick. Want to have a look at the bedrooms?”
Just as Maureen had her foot on the first tread, she heard her sister say, “You two go ahead. I need to make a phone call, if that’s okay, Jake?”
“No problem,” Jake called back, already halfway up the stairs.
Gritting her teeth at her sister’s latest—obvious—maneuver, Maureen followed him. All the way she admonished herself not to notice the snug fit of his jeans, the narrow line of his hips and legs, the tiny red label that identified the make of his pants, the way the denim was fading at the stitching points of both pockets….
Good job not noticing, she congratulated herself at the landing. The hall was small, but the town house had three bedrooms, and the master was extremely generous.
“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess.” Jake gestured for her to enter his room first.
The king-size bed drew her glance. The comforter had been pulled up in an attempt at neatness, but the lumps and bumps suggested his pillows and sheets were not exactly where they were supposed to be. Maureen had a flash of two naked bodies, dim lights, soft music in the background….
Lord, what was she doing? Focus on the rest of the room, woman! Look at those clothes strewn on the floor. Doesn’t that remind you of Rod? You were always picking up after him….
“There’s a view of the creek,” Jake pointed out. “At night you can hear it.”
Maureen crossed to the window, unable to believe how perfect everything was. “The sound of the water must be very soothing….”
“Have trouble sleeping, too, do you?”
She ignored his all-too-accurate deduction and checked out the closet. It was spacious. Then the ensuite. Luxurious. Finally, when they reached the extra bedrooms, she identified a problem. “These rooms are way smaller than Holly’s back home. I don’t think she’d be very happy.”
Jake tapped the dividing wall. “You know, this isn’t weight-bearing. Dylan and I could probably tear it down for you and make one big room with two closets. What girl wouldn’t love that?”
“Holly’s not into clothes,” Maureen said, although it was beside the point. Chances were most town houses would have small secondary bedrooms. And Jake was right; combining the two rooms would be easy enough. To suggest he would help was generous of him, although of course she could never let him.
Back downstairs, Maureen found a note from Cathleen on the table. Figured you guys would have business to talk over, so I’ve driven to Kelly’s for coffee. Meet me there.
“She’s gone.” Maureen waved the note in the air, then scrunched it into her pocket.
“Those newlyweds are the worst, aren’t they?” Jake grinned, making it clear that he’d recognized Cathleen’s attempts at matchmaking.
Maureen groaned and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m the eldest. I’m supposed to be the bossy one. But ever since Rod’s accident, my sisters have treated me like the baby in the family. First they pressured me into returning to Canmore. Now they want you and me to practically move in together.”
“Moving in might be a little hasty, but would three doors down be so bad?” Jake settled in the chair opposite hers, folding his hands on the table and leaning in close.
Years and the weather had marked Jake’s skin. Yet this made him no less attractive. Although she guessed he was nearly forty, his hair was still unmarred by gray, and his blue eyes were a startling shade, much lighter than her own.
In the curve of his mouth and the directness of his gaze, she saw honesty, humor and just a touch of wariness, as if he hadn’t quite made his mind up about her, either. Well, that was good. She’d lent him quite a bit of money. Keeping him on his toes was wise.
“Let’s see that brochure.”
Jake blinked and sat taller in his chair. “Sure.” He opened his leather portfolio, which he’d been carrying around, and out slid the prototype for their main advertising pamphlet. “It’s basically the same as my previous one, only updated with the improvements we’re making this summer.”
Maureen reached for the buff paper, prepared to be disappointed. She’d expected lots of gloss and color. But this was a very plain product. The front cover bore the title “Grizzly Peaks.” Below that was a black-and-white photo of a solitary skier in a mass of virgin snow.
She could see the brochure’s appeal; it had a certain understated style. But would it attract attention sitting on a rack of similar brochures, all vying for the eyes of the winter tourists?
“Well?” Jake prompted.
“Two points concern me right now. First, if I hadn’t happened by this morning, you would’ve had these printed without running them by me first. I’m not sure that’s a very good start for our partnership.”
She suspected she’d annoyed him, but when he replied, his voice was calm. “I hadn’t counted on you being involved in the day-to-day decisions.”
“Really? I don’t remember any limitations on my involvement in our partnership agreement. But back to the brochure… It lacks visual punch, don’t you think?”
“Visual punch?”
“I pictured something eye-catching, of obvious quality. An offering that would stand out from the racks of brochures you always see at the information center.”
“And I think that when you print on recycled paper, you send out a message about the environment. All my booklets, cards and stationery are on this type of paper.”
“Okay, I can concede that point. But I still believe we could do a more effective sales job with our copy. Frankly, we could use a good slogan. Something to pique the readers’ interest the moment they pick up the brochure.”
“I suppose…”
“Plus, the information and fee structures in here are all geared to the individual. Have you thought of trying to appeal to families? Or even couples looking for a different, yet romantic, getaway…? Say!” An idea hit her. A good one. “We could even offer a wedding service, a full-package deal. I’ll bet there are people who’d love to get married on a pristine mountaintop. What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” Jake drummed his fingers on the kitchen table. “Interesting idea, I suppose, but have you considered the difficulties? Flowers, for instance. Flying flowers up the mountain would be damned expensive.”
“Jake, it almost seems as if you’re not interested in my ideas.”
“Well, of course I am.”
He put a hand to his face. Was he covering a smile?
“I just didn’t expect you to have so many of them.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“ISN’T THIS GREAT?” Kelly said, bringing a third coffee mug to the table. “Now that you’re back, Maureen, we’ll be able to get together all the time.”
“It is great,” Maureen agreed. She’d refused Jake’s offer of a ride, instead choosing to walk the six blocks from the town house complex to Kelly and Mick’s home. She’d found Cathleen and Kelly in the kitchen, sitting at the table by a big bay window, watching Billy and Amanda. The five-and three-year-old were outside kicking around an old soccer ball.
“They’re such independent kids,” Kelly said. “Very easy to take care of.”
Of course they’d learned that independence the hard way. Their mother, an alcoholic, had eventually abandoned them. Recently she’d asked her brother-in-law, Mick, and Kelly to take permanent custody.
“They seem much happier than they did at Christmas,” Maureen noted.
“A lot has changed since Christmas,” Kelly said. Maureen noticed her fingering her new wedding band. Kelly and Mick had married last December. It had been an expeditious union, undertaken for the sake of the children, or at least that was how it had started out.
“You’re really happy, too, aren’t you?” Maureen asked.
Kelly nodded and smiled. “Mick is the most amazing man. And the kids…”
“You should see them when they visit,” Cathleen said, watching as Billy held the ball in place so Amanda could give it a good whack. “Amanda is developing into a real tomboy. And Billy is so helpful. He always insists on cleaning out Cascade’s stall.”
“What about Sharon? Have you heard from her lately?”
Kelly sighed. “That’s my biggest concern these days. She hasn’t called the children in about three weeks, even though she knows we’re happy to pay for the charges. She’s living at the ski resort in Whistler, working in one of the bars. The worst lifestyle for someone with her drinking problem. Mick and I worry so much….”
Maureen gave her a hug. “Nothing you can do about it, Kel. Sharon’s a grown woman.”
“I know. I just think those kids deserve more from their mother. Anyway…enough doom and gloom. Tell us what you thought of the town house.”
Maureen leaned back in her chair and fixed Cathleen with one of her best, superior, big-sister glares. “Why don’t you two level with me? It’s not real estate you want me to buy. It’s a man.”
“It’s been over a year since Rod died,” Kelly said tentatively. “We thought it might be time.”
“Maybe. But Jake Hartman? Honestly, just because we’re both available doesn’t make us a winning combination.”
“Have you got something against blond, rugged good looks?” Cathleen asked. “Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s tall, obviously in excellent condition and, did I mention, running a very successful business.”
“Oh, he’s a hunk, all right,” Maureen conceded. “And he may even be well-off. But dig a little deeper and what do you find? A man near forty whose life revolves around fun and games. Definitely not my type.”
Kelly looked across the table at Cathleen and shrugged. “Well, what about the town house?”
“That had possibilities,” she admitted. More than possibilities—it was practically perfect. But she still had to get her head around also being three doors down from Jake Hartman.
Never in a million years would she admit as much to her sisters, but what really bothered her was that she did find the man attractive.
Maureen considered herself an intelligent woman. She didn’t like to think she was the type to make the same mistake twice. But perhaps something in her genetic makeup drew her to good-looking yet immature men. How else to explain the erotic thoughts that had struck the minute she’d stepped inside Jake Hartman’s bedroom? Thankfully the man was not a mind reader, or she’d be too embarrassed to work with him.
Her sisters, however, were proved mind readers. And the way they were smiling at each other right now confirmed that her hormonal impulses had shown.
